


WYD 2NITE?

by Nudebeme



Category: Dream Daddy: A Dad Dating Simulator
Genre: Best Friends, Cuddling & Snuggling, M/M, Platonic Cuddling, Platonic Romance, Romantic Friendship, Unrequited Lust
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-05
Updated: 2019-09-05
Packaged: 2020-10-10 08:36:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,730
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20525093
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nudebeme/pseuds/Nudebeme
Summary: Robert Small is working on himself every day, to be a better man for you. He says he needs time alone, but the two of you become closer than ever as he finds himself unwilling to stay alone when you are just across the street.





	WYD 2NITE?

**Author's Note:**

> Written for a fan on Tumblr who wanted to see Robert be dadsona's best friend and showing up at odd hours of the night in his pajamas to watch scary movies.

He always does like to show up unannounced. Who the hell am I to turn him away? Man, it's late though, I check the clock and it's past midnight, and for someone who's getting as much grays as I am, that's just as good as being morning already...and that's juuuust when Robert gets going.

The house is empty, ever since Amanda left. When I get to the door, shuffling like the old man I'm becoming, it's already open. Robert's standing there in his pajamas, perched against the doorframe holding what I hope is my last copy _Fortean Times _he “borrowed” last week.

“Did you just pick my lock?” I ask- I wouldn't hold it over Robert honestly if he knew how. “-Or am I just being an idiot and leaving it unlocked again?”

“What, I never told you about the time I broke myself out of the pen in Gibraltar? 1978? Eh? Doesn't ring a bell?” Rob invites himself in, my eyes trail his pajama-clad legs and notice that the bottoms of his bare feet are green from a freshly mowed lawn.

“If you did, you're gonna have to tell me again.”

“Psh, It's old news. I'm lying by the way, you left your door open.” Robert had a package of lite-sodium popcorn in his tattooed hand, he stretches and rubs his graying hair vigorously as he throws the package onto my kitchen table as if he owned the place. “-And I thought I was the one losing my memory.”

“...Would you have broken the lock if I didn't answer the door?” I throw myself on the couch with plenty of room on the other side where Robert had recently been making “his spot”, it was right where Amanda used to sit when we would marathon Baked, Naked, and Caked on Netflix.

“Nah, wouldn't need to. Your windows are unlocked, too.” Robert presented this fact by easily swinging open my kitchen window, a smarmy little grin on his face.

“Well then, I guess the place is yours.” I have to admit it, “Where's Betsy?”

“Taking a dump on your lawn.” Robert reaches into my fridge and invites himself to my precious seltzer, I peek behind me out the still-open door and lo and behold there she was, beady little terrier eyes catching the light from my perfect, perfect lawn.

“Ah shit. I ain't going out there for that. Come on Bobby, if you're going to raid my fridge at least close the front door.”

“_Ooooh~”_ Robert flailed his hands beside his head, mimicking a fussy Brooklyn mother “Yer gunna let the spiduhs in, Bobby.” After Betsy comes scrambling in, he kicks the door closed and leaves a tiny green smudge on the wood. Whatever, he's cute and he gets away with more shit than I should let him get away with.

“You'se the one who doesn't like spiduhs.” I mimic him, man that accent cracks me up. “So what's the occasion tonight? Anything worth keeping me up until 5 am this time?”

“Come on, every occasion is worth that amount of your time. Look,” He procured a USB stick from his pajama pocket- “I pirated the latest season of Forensic Files.”

“Oh great, this will definitely get me locking my doors and windows.” I stretch and watch as Robert squats in front of my TV, fiddling with the system he'd rigged up for us, cracking open his drink the meantime. My dad instincts tell him to keep the soda away from the electronics, but by the time I muster up anything to say he's already raising the volume on my TV, snapping his fingers in accomplishment.

“Aight. Aight, I think this is good. Sit tight, I'm gonna microwave this popcorn.”

“Aight.” I mimic him again, helplessly grinning as my best friend made full use of my kitchen. Betsy made herself welcome right on my lap for the two minutes that transpired of gradual pops turning into a cacophony of corn bursting from their husks. Robert was seemingly just staring at it spin in the machine, watching the bag bloat out, his mind somewhere else.

“Soo....how was therapy today?” I feel obligated to ask, I was the one who talked him into it.

“You know what? Not bad.” Robert cracks his neck, and after a brief incident of him futzing with the hot bag and almost dropping it all, he brings it over. “I think I've worked my way up to _not_ talking about movies with her.”

“Well, it's a start.” I laugh, “At least you aren't inserting yourself into the Home Alone storyline anymore.” I practically bounce as Robert throws himself ass-first onto his side of my couch, tucking his feet under the blanket.

“Well it wasn't too far off, there _where_ wet bandits.”

“As you've said.” He and I clink our seltzer's together, my best buddy and I wriggling into our seats and getting comfy.

“Alexa, turn off the lights.” I demand, and Rob's eyes bug out of his head-

“That thing again? Man, you need to shut that thing off, it's harvesting information out of you!” Robert lunges up out of the chair he'd just gotten comfy in and goes to unplug my Alexa, the lights having already gone out.

“What information could it possibly get out of me? How many times a day I take a dump?”

“You _fool,_you _rube_.” Robert takes my gadget and throws it under a pillow, effectively suffocating it. “That information is precious and belongs to you and you alone!” Bobby looks a little insane at that moment, something I never get tired of.

“Alright, calm down. Don't get a big dick over it.” Robert makes his way back to the couch and grunts as he throws himself back on it, a testy glance in my direction before pressing play.

“You'll see. One day you will.”

“Uh huh.” I humor him, reaching over and patting his blanket-covered knee. “That'll do, Bobby.”

An air of silence comes over us both as the TV comes to life, we've grown so accustomed to the companionable quiet since we've become best friends. Soon we're engrossed in a gruesome tale, and at times I sneak peeks over at Robert's face, his baby brown eyes reflecting gruesome images from the screen. He may be utterly entranced but I can never reach that level, not when he's across from me like this. He was talking at the screen, gesturing angrily-

“Fuckin moron, should have locked his doors. Anybody could just walk in and- _ugh!_” He rolls his eyes, I would be lying if I said I didn't love how intense he gets about these true crime shows. Every time he throws his arms out I catch a whiff of his cologne, that subtle freshness and sandalwood.

By the time the first episode was done and the second, and then third came and went, Robert leaps off the couch and makes his way to what I imagine is the bathroom. The light down the hall illuminated some creepy shadows down towards my bedroom, and my hair stands on end- I get up and start locking all the windows in my house.

“Eeeurgh.” I could hear Robert groaning from the bathroom with the door wide open, followed by an anticlimactic fart.

“That was a good one.” I could only laugh, man I hope by the time Amanda comes home for Thanksgiving I won't be regressed to a caveman, the way we two just let everything hang out.

“Don't say that, it sucked. What are you doing?” He reenters the room to see me testing the resilience of my kitchen window lock, I shoot him a guilty look and return to my post on the couch, Betsy having already made her bed for the night on my recliner.

“Oh you know, worrying.”

“Yeah, I see that.” Robert smiles and I kind of melt, _kind of._ “Alright, back to the show.” Without warning Robert yanks the blanket off of me and throws himself against me, wriggling his bare back against my chest, offering to be my little spoon. He pulls the blanket over us both and remains there without a word-

Man, this is the part of the night I love the most. Robert never admits it, never asks for it, but I know he's learned to appreciate the art of a good cuddle. I'd like to call myself a master, as I wrap my arm loosely around his, feeling the welcoming warmth of his bare skin. He squirms briefly and finds a comfortable place for his head, I don't mind his flyaway hairs blocking half the screen. I ain't worried about the show anymore.

I behave myself. It's hard to sometimes, Robert's cologne smells so good and he's so firm yet soft-skinned; it could bring a man to act on his impulses. I allow myself chaste touches, small comforting circles over his bicep, his hip. The hitching of his breath when I accidentally tickle him distracts me so much I am soon lost to the TV, it's just annoying noise muffling what I _really_ want to hear.

Damn. Thoughts where wandering again. By the time Robert spoke up, his voice was croaky with sleep, he hooked his leg around mine and leans into me hard. “Think you got one more in you?”

“I think there's only so much double homicide I can get into before I start phasing out.”

Robert cranes his neck and turns to look up at me, his eyes bloodshot and exhausted. “Quitter.” He grins, “This'll wake you up.” The bastard suddenly presses the soles of his cold feet against my shins, I stifle a yelp-

“Herrrk- God damn, Fine, one more. One more.”

“Good.”

I don't think I even made it past the opening sequence. By the time I open my eyes again sun is filtering in through the locked windows, Robert was drooling freely onto the hand I had placed under his cheek. Man do I gotta leak, and I'm pretty sure I hear Betsy drinking out of the toilet; but I can't bring myself to budge and wake Bobby. I never could. Huh, wish I could reach my word jumbles from here.

I look at the clock, 5 am. I still have a few hours before work, I'm going to hold onto every second I have of Robert asleep against me as I can.


End file.
